Deja voodoo food

In more human news, I've had a dinner-ific week. My friend Carly from the old Auckland pub quiz crew asked me over for a delicious vege lasagne on Tuesday. I had an extra bonus suprise of meeting her flatmate, the lovely Jo. Yes, that Jo. We jumped on a trampoline—I don't think I've done that since the infamous Rum & Imitation Fanta Incident of 1998. Speaking of firsts, I'm pretty sure that Jo is the first Māori person I've seen in London. I guess those native to the Pacific don't feel the same instinctive pull to Mother Britain that seems common enough amongst the Kiwis I've met over here.

Friday was meant to be an exploration into the famous Gourmet Burger Kitchen to celebrate Alex returning from Sweden. Alex is notoriously unreliable though, and so I wasn't too suprised when he disappeared on the way to his hostel. Instead, I wound up having an entertaining evening of fush and chups and limbo dancing with two of the girls from next door. It was wucked!

Update: fiddled with punctuation etc.